Viktor’s eyes found mine, wild and wanting, mouth open, tongue waiting. That was all it took—my whole body tensed, back arched, a cry ripped from my chest as I came, cock pulsing, thick ropes of cum painting their faces, their mouths, their tongues. Viktor swallowed every drop he could catch, Dom’s mouth following, licking up the mess, fighting for every drop, worshipping me through the aftershocks, hands stroking my hips, my chest, my thighs.
Sweat pooled between us, my chest heaving, body shaking, every inch claimed and worshipped and utterly spent. Dom pressed kisses up my thigh, over my hip, mouth meeting Viktor’s in a filthy, hungry kiss, sharing the taste of me, tongues tangling, cum and spit and sweat smeared between them.
They sprawled over me, bodies heavy, mouths soft now, hands tracing patterns on my skin, the storm of need finally spent, nothing left but the warmth of aftermath and the slow, shuddering realization that I would never be whole for anyone but them.
Bodies tangled in sweat and the raw heat of spent desire, the three of us lay in the hush that followed, chests rising and falling, skin pressed to skin, the mess of what we’d done still sticky and gleaming in the candlelight. For a long while, no one spoke—just breathing, hearts slowing, the storm of hunger easing into something weightless, almost sacred.
Dom rolled to his side, propped up on an elbow, a lazy, satisfied smirk curving his lips. “Well,” he murmured, voice low and loose, “that’s one way to kill the tension before a mission.”
Viktor’s laughter rumbled soft against my chest, the vibration soothing. My hand found his, fingers threading through, a silent claimthat Dom noticed and understood. His gaze lingered on our joined hands for a heartbeat—no jealousy, just the warm humor of a man who’d known what he wanted from the start and had no need to linger.
Dom stretched, long and lazy, then planted a kiss to my cheek—playful, almost brotherly—and pressed another to Viktor’s shoulder, lingering just long enough to leave a mark. “You two are fucking dangerous together,” he said, amusement tangled with a thread of respect. “Try not to let the world burn down before breakfast.”
Viktor grunted, half smile, eyes already turning inward, closing the distance between us as Dom rose and padded to the bathroom, whistling tunelessly as he disappeared.
The door clicked softly behind him. Silence fell, private and full, the energy in the room shifting, folding inward until there was only us. Viktor’s hand cupped my jaw, gentle now, tracing the mess on my face with a thumb, eyes gone soft, almost vulnerable. His lips pressed to my forehead, the kind of kiss that meant home.
I let myself melt into him, content in a way I never thought I’d be again. The adrenaline had faded, replaced by the ache in my muscles and the warmth of Viktor’s body pressed close, heart still pounding in time with mine.
Fingers stroked my temple, slow and soothing, banishing the last of the tremors from my limbs. “You alright?” Viktor murmured, accent thick with exhaustion and something softer—a fear that always lived just beneath his skin, a protectiveness that never faded, even now.
I nodded, unable to find words for what I felt. Sated, safe, entirely seen. “Better than alright,” I managed, voice rough. “You?”
He pressed his forehead to mine, breathing me in. “I am now.”
Silence stretched between us, comfortable as a blanket. Down the hall, the water ran as Dom cleaned himself up, humming off-key, a reminder that the world would come crashing back soon enough. But for now, it was just the two of us, wrapped around each other, everything else held at bay by candlelight and the remnants of pleasure.
Viktor wiped my cheek, collecting the last drops of my releasewith a wicked smile, then sucked his thumb clean, eyes never leaving mine. “You are trouble, Sebastian,” he whispered, teasing and tender all at once. “But you’re mine.”
A laugh escaped me, small and honest, echoing in the hush. “Yours. Always.”
He gathered me closer, drawing the sheets up, pressing a final kiss to my hair as I let myself drift—body sore, heart full, mind quiet for the first time in days.
Dom emerged a few minutes later, dressed, hair damp, a smirk playing at the edge of his mouth. He saluted us, mock-serious. “Get some sleep, lovebirds. Big day tomorrow.”
“Night, Dom,” I said, genuine affection in my voice.
“Night,” Viktor echoed, voice rumbling low.
Dom slipped out, shutting the door behind him. We were alone, the world narrowing down to the sound of our breaths, the warmth of skin on skin, the promise that whatever tomorrow brought, we would face it together.
Viktor’s hand found mine again under the covers, squeezing gently. “Sleep, Sebastian,” he whispered. “I’ll be here.”
And for the first time in a long time, I believed him.
27
SIEGE OF HOLLOWVALE
SEBASTIAN
Viktor drove the armored SUV like he was born to it. Hands steady on the wheel. Eyes tracking the road with predatory focus. Every few seconds, lightning painted his profile in stark relief. All sharp angles and controlled violence.
Beautiful. Dangerous. Mine.
Dom sat beside me in the back, checking his rifle for the third time. “Still can't believe Adrian cracked it that fast.”
“He had incentive,” Viktor said. “And the files gave him everything he needed.”
